When I Dream At Night
by BackToTheRoots
Summary: Maggie starts having dreams about Pope and her that make her think about their relationship. Paggie! I suck at summaries just read the story :D Rated T for mild swear words.
1. Pirates and BlackEyed Monsters

When I Dream At Night

_A/N: I think this is the first Paggie fanfic ever (at least on here). I noticed that after the first episode Pope turned up, most people were ranting about him being a rapist and a racist, but somehow he made his way into (most of) our hearts and Falling Skies wouldn't be Falling Skies without him. I like to picture Pope with Maggie because I kinda like love/hate relationships and I think their relationship definitely has potential. Besides…Maggie and Pope are the best *cough*. So I guess I'm the first person who's officially coming out as a Paggie-shipper in the fanfiction-way. _

Chapter 1: Pirates and Black-Eyed Monsters

Black.

The eyes that were staring at me were black. Pitch black. Black as in pain, black as in sorrow, black as in _death_.

They looked so humane, so intelligent. Cruel but somehow beautiful.

I pressed myself up against the wall as if I could melt into it and disappear but it didn't give in, didn't protect me. I felt my heart hammering in my chest as the Skitter approached me, coming closer step by step. I searched with my hands for a way to get out of there. A door maybe or even a window, but all I felt was the cold wall underneath my shivering hands. I found something that felt like a stone, grabbed it and threw it at the Skitter. The stone didn't even _reach_ the Skitter.

I wanted to scream, to fight or at least cry but I was too exhausted. I was so tired I had to fight falling asleep.

"Why don't you just close your eyes and let your body rest," a voice in my head said.

The voice was right. Why did I fight it? Why didn't I just fall asleep right here and now? I would be dead soon anyway. I couldn't do _anything_ to protect myself. I looked around and searched for the Skitter. It had moved to my right and was now awfully close. It was still staring at me with his cruel but beautiful pitch black eyes.

"Sleep, sleep," said the voice.

I started to drift off when I heard footsteps approaching and then shots. Suddenly I was wide awake. With a screaming noise the Skitter spun around to where the shots had come from.

Pope.

He stood in the doorway with the gun in his hands and a wild expression on his face.

"Wanna play?" he asked the Skitter.

The Skitter grunted and moved towards Pope. Pope just laughed and whispered: "Then let's play!"

He aimed for a leg and shot twice. The first bullet missed the leg but the second drilled into the flesh. The Skitter screamed painfully and tried to hit Pope with one of its other legs but the injured one caused it too much pain. Pope aimed for another leg, shot and the Skitter screamed as the bullet hit it. It took another leg and it stumbled and collapsed onto the ground. Pope stepped closer to the Skitter. He bent down and listened to the Skitter's heavy breathing.

He put his gun to the Skitter's head, murmured "Hasta la vista." and pulled the trigger.

"Ma'am," he said and offered me his hand. I took it and he pulled me up but I was too weak to stay. I stumbled and fell but he caught me.

"Watch your feet or someone might get hurt," he joked.

He put his strong arms around me and held me.

"I saved your live now you have to marry me." He didn't seem to be joking anymore.

I put a hand to his cheek and stroked it softly.

"My hero," I whispered" Where were you all my life?"

He leaned closer, closed his eyes and finally our lips met.

I woke up, covered in sweat and breathing heavily.

What the _hell_ was that? I asked myself.

I checked my watch: 2 o'clock. I was more than tired but somehow I managed to wrap my mind around the fact that I just had an absolutely _ridiculous_ dream about Pope.

No it was more than ridiculous, it was _insane_.

The dream reminded me of one of those cheesy romance novels old women would buy at a gas station. Stories about princess-saving-pirates and happily-everafters.

_How_ did I end up dreaming about kissing Pope?

Pope was a brutal, ignorant, selfish, _evil_ man! Wasn't he?

It was disgusting how he killed Skitters, or Cooties as he liked to call them, just for fun. He threatened other peoples' lives just to get what he wanted. In his opinion the attack had been the best that could ever happen to him. He didn't care about the billions of people that died, didn't care about all the children who lost their parents. All the families that were ripped apart…

He _did_ save my life and I was grateful for that and he treated me like a member of his gang, gave me food, clothes, protection, and he protected me from his brother and the other gang members, but he was an evil man and he wasn't to be trusted.

Or _kissed_ in that matter.

He certainly wasn't my least favorite person in the world but I didn't like him.

I _hate_ him, I corrected myself, I _hate _him and this dream didn't mean _anything_. _At all_!

Did it?

_A/N: Loved it? Hated it? Reviews are what makes my heart beat faster :D. I tried to make the dream as ridiculous as possible and I originally wanted to let Pope look like a pirate but I scratched that because it was just too much and I wanted you to keep reading. Chapter 2 is coming soon. _


	2. Hell's Kitchen?

**When I Dream At Night**

_A/N: Sorry that it took me so long to update but I was sick and busy learning for exams (and, truth to be told, a little lazy…). _

**Chapter 2: Hell's Kitchen?**

The school's canteen was filled with people chatting about anything but aliens.

Breakfast was always the most annoying time of the day. Everyone pretended to be refreshed and relaxed after a long night of sleep, while you could clearly see the bags under their eyes, and everybody acted nice and good mooted.

But I needed my rest to prepare for the day. I wanted to eat my breakfast in silence without somebody asking me questions he didn't really want to know the answer to. Not that any of the civilians would talk to me. I think they were scared of me because I was "one of pope's" so I wasn't exactly well-liked.

I didn't really care about that. I wasn't here to make new friends and act all friendly and nice. I was here to survive. I had a handful of friends and I was okay with that. I was used to not having many friends. Back in High school I wasn't very popular, too.

We had bread for breakfast; fresh baked. People could say a lot about Pope but no one could deny his excellent cooking skills; or in this case baking skills.

I finished breakfast without talking to anyone and then got up to go to my room but on my way there I ran into Jimmy, who told me that Weaver wanted to see me. Few minutes later I walked into Weaver's class room. He sat at a table, covered in papers and maps, and greeted me with a nod.

"You wanted to see me?" I asked and tried to figure out what this was about.

"You're on Pope Duty this week," he answered. Strictly to the point, as always.

"I'm _what_?"

He sighed and gave me an understanding look.

"I know he isn't your favorite person in the world but someone _has_ to look after him and I can be sure that he won't do anything stupid with you around."

I got his point, Pope could be really convincing, but me watching Pope really wasn't a god idea; at all.

"Do you _want_ me to shoot him?"

"Actually he's pretty useful to me. His food lightens the mood a little and we can use his knowledge of weapons and ammunitions. So I guess no, I don't want you to shoot him."

Now I started to get mad. That nearly sounded like Pope was "one of us" now, but he wasn't! I was _absolutely_ sure that Pope would use the first opportunity he could get to get away. He wasn't to be trusted. Not by me, not by Weaver, not by anyone. I knew that better than anyone else.

"I would be more useful if I was going on food and weapon hunt with Mason."

That wasn't even an excuse. I obviously knew how to fight and since Karen and Mike were gone… let's just say Mason could use any help he could get.

"I'll have Jimmy replace you. Look," He sighed and shook his head," I wouldn't ask you if I didn't have to, but the civilians are getting more and more anxious and I _really_ don't need any more problems. You know Pope best and that's why you can watch him best. No more complaining. You're dismissed."

Half an hour later I walked into the kitchen where Pope was already waiting for me, with an amused grin on his face. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and was covered in something that looked like flour.

"You're wasting our food now?" I asked.

The grin on his face faded and he looked at me with an angry expression.

"That's funny. I knew someone who didn't mind wasting _my_ food, wearing _my_ clothes, not to say using _my_ weapons, just to turn her back on me in the end. I think her name was Margaret or something."

I faked a laugh and said, "Look who's funny. You and especially your brother deserved it." I narrowed my eyes at him and pointed to the big bowl in front of him. "What are you doing there anyway?"

"This, my dear, is called baking bread. But how would _you_ know anything about that."

Unconsciously my hand wandered to the gunbelt that was strapped to my chest.

"Careful Jackass."

I made it through the rest of the morning without having to talk much to Pope. I just walked around in the kitchen and watched him cook. He seemed relaxed and was in a very good mood. When he started chopping onions with a knife I watched him a little more careful but he behaved.

When he took the bread out of the oven it smelled absolutely amazing and I started to get hungry. By lunchtime he was done cooking and it smelled even better. He had managed to cook a delicious smelling soup with just water, rice and a few vegetables. One of the civilians came to bring the food into the canteen. Pope took two bowls out of a cupboard, poured some soup in it and wordlessly handed one over to me.

After the civilian was gone we started eating and it really _did_ taste good.

"So?" Pope asked.

At first I didn't understand what he meant but then he pointed at my bowl with his spoon.

"Hmm. You've done better," I teased and he laughed.

Somehow it felt good eating with him. I didn't have to be polite or pretend I was interested in what he was telling me about his children or his life before the invasion, because he wasn't. I knew he had a wife and children somewhere, his brother had told me that, but I never heard him speaking about them.

While we were eating, my eyes kept wandering to his lips. I certainly didn't do it on purpose, I just couldn't help it; they looked so warm and soft. But every time I caught myself staring at him, I forced myself to look away. I thought back to last night's dream. It made me smile. The dream had been _really_ ridiculous. My mom used to love Rosamunde Pilcher novels and my dream sounded just like one of those. Except Pope wasn't some rich British duke.

A while later Jimmy burst into the kitchen.

"Weaver wants to see you," he told me a little breathless. Whatever Weaver wanted, it seemed to be urgent.

"What are you, his messenger boy?" Pope asked a little amused.

"What about him?" I asked and pointed to Pope.

"Don't worry; I'll watch him for you." He didn't sound happy about that but he was a good soldier: he took orders however they came. I gave him a sympathetic look and patted his back before I left the kitchen.

"It's been _so_ nice chatting with you!" Pope screamed after me.

_A/N: Chapter 3 is on its way!_


	3. A little Announcement

**A/N: I know, I know, it's a lame excuse, but I really can't work with what TNT is giving me at the moment. Pope's just too much of an asshole and Maggie is too much into Hal. I promise I will try to work on the fic, but unless Pope doesn't get back to rough-but-lovable rebel-ish badass, I simply don't have any inspiration. And Maggie is the coolest, so she deserves a fair fic. You know I love you, Maggs. Sorry guys.**


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